


Sometimes you have to let your heart do the thinking

by Capt_Birdie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Episode: s05e12 The Real Deal, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 00:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13963455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capt_Birdie/pseuds/Capt_Birdie
Summary: Because everybody deserve some happiness.





	Sometimes you have to let your heart do the thinking

Coulson sat in the common room they'd just set up. He was tired, happy, content, conflicted and afraid. His health was deteriorating faster than he'd expected and the impending doom is not really helping either. For FitzSimmons he can only feel happiness. Their joyous wedding at least 8 years in the making worth everything they worked for. After everyone scattered away leaving the happy couple to enjoy the rest of the day, he made rounds over the lighthouse. Seeing Daisy hunched over a computer munching Doritos and sipping her Zima - Deke must be educated on beverages in the near future - eases his heart's ache. She talked to him after the ceremony. Her heart is broken because of his illness and the fact that he is not putting up a big fight about it. But she is not closing herself off from him. That makes him content. His heart. His heart is conflicted, it is waging war with being happy and not hurting Melinda. It was obvious that their previous discussion over wasting time was far from being over. Sure, he loves her with his all heart, loved her ever since she wiped the floor with him in the Academy. But he also knows her giant heart will suffer in losing him, especially if they ... if they would get closer. And he's afraid for their lives. Afraid that maybe his remaining time will not be enough to get them safe. To leave them in peace. 

His musings are disturbed by the person he needed and dreaded the most.  
"Phil. Are you okay?" asks Melinda softly standing in front of him.  
He looks up at her. His heart leaps of joy, as if every second he can spend his life looking at her increases his lifespan with hours. He cannot help smile but his thoughts are still somewhat sombre.  
"Will it be like this from now on?" he asks.  
"What do you mean?" Melinda frowns in concern of his question.  
"You, checking up on me?"  
"Since you've neglected your health for a while and not tell me about it, you have no right to complain." replies Melinda sternly and places her hands on her hips.  
"Not complaining, you can check me out whenever you want." and he flashes a grin at her.  
"Good." then she looks around to see if anybody is within hearing distance.  
"If you won't be in my room in twenty minutes I'll haul your ass there. We still have a conversation to finish."  
"It's not like I could ever say no to you." answers Phil weakly, still unable to hide his smile. Melinda takes this as a yes, turns around and heads for her room.

Phil sits for another minute to gather himself up. Then he sets for his room, for a shower and a change of clothes. As he stands in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around his hips, he checks himself. The wound on his chest never was a beautiful sight. He hated it, was always conscious about it. Now with black tissue covering the area, it is outright hideous. And this is what he can offer to Melinda. A dying man is not something anybody could want. Regret grips his heart at his foolishness. How could he be so stupid? He had so many chances to move things forward with her in the last 30 years. But he was a chicken, he could have never thought that this gorgeous, smart, badass woman could like her more than a friend. Even when they admitted that they could be more, he stayed silent, because there was always something more important, some threat to Earth, duty preceding happiness. Never before he thought otherwise. This was the job, duty comes first, he never questioned it, and neither did Melinda. But now that time seem to have run out, he is thinking. There must have been a way to balance the two, they were always good at compartmentalising. He shakes his head, now he'll never know. Checking his watch, he still has five more minutes. Better to shave off his scruff before heading to her. 

Four and a half minutes later Phil stands outside Melinda's room dressed in t-shirt and sweatpants. He lifts his hand to knock, but before he can make a noise her door opens and she practically yanks him in. Melinda May is the epitome of badassery in leather jackets and tight black jeans, accentuated with her aviators under sunny conditions. Now she is dressed in a simple tank top and knee length yoga pants which makes Phil's heart beat just as fast as she can kick ass. Correction faster, she is not wearing a bra underneath. How they're supposed to talk, when he'd been reduced to a drooling idiot in 5 seconds? Focus Phil. You have to keep everything cool. 

She motions him to sit on her bed - there is not really any other place to sit down. He sits on the edge of the bed, both feet on ground. When Melinda sits beside him cross-legged turning to him, he tries to sit halfway toward her. Phil studies her face. Gears are turning loudly in her head. She's trying to formulate what she intends to say, so he patiently waits for her. Frankly, he could sit like this all night long and be content just by being this close to her. 

Melinda's mind and heart cannot settle on being mad at him and being in love with him. She gets a hold of his mechanical hand. Palm extended upward, she strokes her hand over it idly, marvelling that it still glows as her feather light touch makes contact with his hand.  
"I know you didn't tell me because you'd wanted to protect me."  
Damn right.  
"But I don't want to waste another second not being with you."  
"Melinda ..." he tries to protest.  
Shaking her head "No, Phil. Stop it." she says a little more harshly than she wanted to. That shuts him up.  
"Even without your condition, our jobs are dangerous, anything could happen at any time. If something were to happen to one of us the other would be broken and you know that." she looks into his eyes, trying to convey every emotion she can to make him understand.

She is right, and he knows it. She is always right. One of the 50 reasons he loves her. When Melinda went missing in their dystopian future, he was devastated. He could only hold onto the fact that they didn't find a body. And after they heard that she was sent to the surface there was no real choice, he wanted go after her no matter the consequences. He either saved her or die down there.  
He shifts his focus to his hand for a short time, Melinda's hands are still playing with it. He smiles when he sees glow emanating in the wake of her fingers traveling across the surface.  
"You know" he starts still smiling, "you're the only one who can make it happen."  
Melinda is confused. Then it dawns on her, that he's focusing on their joined hands.  
"The glow?"  
"Yeah, you light up my heart." comes a corny answer from Phil. Practically a love confession. It's not like he is afraid to tell her. It is just not something they have to say out loud. They love each other no question about it.  
Melinda laughs.  
"You are a dork."  
"Your one and only."  
Phil draws his focus from their hands to Melinda's face. He notices an errant curl of her hair, and breaking their bond, he pushes it behind her ear. His hand stays on her face, thumb stroking her cheek. They were always good at communicating with looks and a few touches. They don't really need more words. It was clear that both of them wanted the same thing, to be with each other. And even with the previously gallant effort to keep Melinda safe and afar crumbled with her reasoning. They always needed each other, they are always better with the other one around, and this is no exception.

His musings are broken, when something flashes in Melinda's eyes. She wants an answer. His heart clenches in an effort to get his mind out of his ass, to remind him that the matters of the heart should rarely be overruled by the mind. He nods in acquiescence. It is settled then. They choose to move forward. This was the sign she was waiting for and she closes the distance between them. The first touch of their lips is light, almost reverent. He tampers down his brain to not utter the word finally. But just as with the LMD, Phil cannot have enough of her and open his lips. This Melinda reacts in kind, quickly heating their kiss up. Phil always expected that should they ever get together the cumulated repressed sparks will burst out as fireworks, and this almost feels like it. Her hands find his waist and neck, his are tangled in her hair but neither moves to hasten their joining. They are content to feel each other for a little while. 

Minutes tick by and his breaths become as laboured as he'd run the whole time he stepped into this room. Melinda separates them, but only as far as to put their foreheads together. "Are you okay?" asks Melinda worriedly.  
"Hmm. Just a little winded. I'm sorry, I was really tired before." musters Phil.  
He leans back for a short peck and starts to the door. He needs to get some sleep.  
"Where are you going?" inquires Melinda.  
"Ugh, to sleep?" Phil raises an eyebrow.  
Melinda gets around to the left side of the bed and starts to pull back the cover.  
"I'm not letting you sleep without supervision. You're staying here." says Melinda in a voice that takes no as an answer.  
Phil looks at her dumbfounded. Did she meant what he is thinking?  
"Do I have to spell it out for you Phil?" leers Melinda with a hint of a smile.  
Yep. He is one lucky SOB. Melinda can see the recognition in his eyes and starts to take off her pants, while ordering Phil to close the door and turn off the lights.  
Phil is rooted to his spot at the door. His brain seem to have stopped working as he watches Melinda shedding her leggings. Clad only in tank top and panties, she gets under the covers.  
"Phil?"  
"Hmm, oh yeah." his mind catches on with him and turns off the light.  
He stumbles to the bed siting on it.  
"Drop the sweats mister." he can hear her order.  
A small slivers of light shine through the edges of the door. He can see, she is waiting for him leaning on her arm.  
As he settles into the bed, Melinda leans over him, kisses him lightly on the lips, and lies down on the left side of his chest listening to his heartbeat.  
"Am I hurting you?" asks tentatively.  
"No. I can barely feel anything."  
Still smiling he loops his left arm around Melinda's back, his right hand finds her arm draped over his stomach.  
"Good night, Phil." whispers Melinda and pecks his chest.  
"Good night, Mel." replies Phil, still dazed that they're finally doing this. Melinda closes her eyes, her ears intently listening his heart beat. For the first two minutes his heart rate is still to high for her liking so she begins to stroke his chest in a soothing manner to help him settle. As the realisation that she's here for good imbues in his mind, he allows himself to get some sleep. His erratic heart rate slows to a steady rhythm as he is going slack, and Melinda decides to let herself be lulled into sleep by it.

They stay like that for the most of night, having the best sleep they had in ages.  
Around dawn, Melinda's awaken by a questing hand on her behind. Her leg is thrown over Phil's, she covers his form like a cat slumbering with a heat pack. She smiles and begins to watch his face intently. Energised from his peaceful slumber Phil leans down and kisses her passionately, a reaction most welcomed by Melinda. They waste no time, clothes are shed and they drive each other to completion, quenching their thirst for each other over the span of the next hour. 

Afterwards they lay in the bed, not wanting to start the day just yet. Melinda lays on her back, her left leg drawn up a bit to ease the dull pain still bothering her, Phil is nestled between her legs, laying over her, head resting on her chest. Her hands travel through his hair and over his shoulders in a calming manner. She is tired, happy, content, conflicted and afraid. She is tired that the world can't give them a little peace, that there is always the next end of world event on the horizon. In spite of this her heart feels lighter than ever, happy that Phil and her finally broke down their walls made of rules on work etiquette, false sense of friendship and plain old stupidity. Obviously, she's also very content, lying in the afterglow of their union. However her mind is conflicted. She doesn't think that they will advertise this development in their relationship. On one hand she'd like to keep it secret, increasing the fun, and making this relationship just theirs. On the other hand, she doesn't want to yank Coulson to a dark corner every time she'd like to touch him to ground herself. Over the years of working with FitzSimmons she'd learned that the universe is all about balance so unfortunately fear overshadows her little bubble of peace. She is no scientist or good in technology or hacking (unless it is done with an axe), so she is afraid that the only thing she could do, is making him happy for as long as he lives, and not being able to help to find some sort of cure.

Phil's right hand is drawing patterns over her side, breast and neck back and forth, the blanket slipped down to his midriff, barely covering his backside. His stomach grumbles, disturbing their serenity.  
"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" asks Phil, propping his chin on her sternum.  
She smiles at him, and just as she'd answer, a loud shouting echoes through the corridor.  
"May! May! I can't find Coulson, he's not in his room and I've tried to find him everywhere in the lighthouse. " cries Daisy in an increasing loud noise as she nears Melinda's room.  
Before either one of them could react Daisy bursts through her door. She stops in her movement over the threshold, her eyes go wide then quickly shuts it as the scenery in front of her is registered in her mind.  
"Aaagh! My eyes!" shrieks Daisy. This is really something she'd never wanted to see, have knowledge of it yes, witnessing it definitely no. Now she understands all the cringing references when it comes to walking in on your parents.  
"Close the door!" shouts Melinda and Phil in unison at Daisy.  
"Yeah, sorry guys! I'm happy for you though!" So much for keeping it a secret. At least she can scratch one thing off her list.


End file.
